Mumbai

Mumbai is not just a boomtown, but also and chiefly Slumbai. Over half of the people here live in slums. Tourists can even book a tour of Dharavi, which is not nearly as voyeuristic as one might fear.

Boot’s smile is almost saintly. He is sitting on an upturned pail with a putty knife in his right hand and plastic and aluminium containers in front of him. His job is cleaning paint cans. Perhaps he will get even farther in life and become a weaver, for instance. Maybe he will even make it out of Dharavi. The fewest inhabitants manage that. Boot is a small wheel in a huge machine. He works with a small putty knife. It takes ages until the paints are peeled off. His hands are black from the work. The air is heavy with the fumes of the paint and other substances that are truly not healthy. Nonetheless, Boot has a certain pride. He has his work, his income. Dharavi is Asia’s largest slum. More than a million people live here in a tiny area around which Mumbai is growing rapidly. The most astonishing thing is that 665 million US dollars are transacted every year in Dharavi. We will learn a great deal today and particularly about the economic wonderland behind Dharavi.

Four Germans have chosen a slum tour with Reality-Tours, a non-profit organization that was founded five years ago by an Englishman and an Indian. We foreigners have mixed feelings about taking this tour. “It’s almost like visiting a zoo,” according to Claudia, a Hanseatic hotel manager. She is undaunted and is travelling with a girlfriend, also named Claudia, through India on the fast track: New Delhi, Mumbai, Goa and back. A couple from Hanover will be returning to South India the next day: Kerala, Backwater and Co, on a cultural and nature journey, certainly no boring beach holiday. Today, though, the slum tour is on their itinerary. Do they have any qualms? Ultimately, curiosity wins out. We are sitting in the car with Sunil, our guide, who speaks very quietly, is happy to answer every question twice and cannot say no to anything. We booked the “Long Slum Tour.” “To be honest because getting to the train station on my own was too daunting for me,” admits Thomas from Hanover.

So, the tourists get to see even more stops on their fast track; the red light district, the gigantic Dhobi Ghat open-air laundrette, but most of all Dharavi. Before taking our first steps into the slum, Sunil gives the curious tourists instructions. No photographs! “And even if it smells bad, please do not wrinkle your noses or grimace. It’s a matter of respect.” The group nods obediently. Everyone is dressed appropriately and not showing bare legs. Not like the girl in another group coming towards us in a spaghetti-strap top and miniskirt.

We try not to step in muddy puddles as we walk in slalom between goats and many, many people. We squeeze ourselves through alleys that are not for claustrophobics. Two people can hardly pass one another in them. Yet mostly we do not want to get in the way of the slum inhabitants because they are so busy. All of Dharavi is one big human recycling machine. The trash of Mumbai is recycled here. Aluminium is cleaned, shredded and melted down, electronic scrap is broken down to its parts. There are bakeries where the oven is never shut off. The leather industry is huge, soap, clothing, simply everything is manufactured. Everything imaginable is available here. The only thing lacking is toilets.

The living conditions in the slums are tough. Eleven or twelve people sleep in one room of just about eight square metres. Many of the huts have no running water or electricity. The inhabitants can only dream of a toilet. Yet, whether Hindu, Christian or Muslim, they are all united in their local patriotism. Children play cricket or with fake banknotes with the faces of Bollywood stars printed on them, or with mobile phones. Sam, a 17-year old boy, shows them to us and tries to talk to us. He wants to improve his English. Education counts a lot in India, even in the slums. Girls in school uniforms cross our path “Hi, hi!” they call, smile, wink and want to shake our hands. No one is begging. Work is held in high esteem in Dharavi, the highest. Sunil tells us that an average job here brings in between 5,000 and 6,000 rupees a month, or a little under 100 euros, which is little for India, but enough for a life in the slum. The rent for a hut in Dharavi is between 1,500 and 3,000 rupees and in many cases the residents are the owners and pay for the use of the lot.

To ease our consciences, the tour ends in a school where the slum residents can take English and computer courses. The kindergarten is closed today. All of them are financed by tours like the Dharavi slum tour. The women from Hamburg purchase t-shirts and postcards. “I have less pity now,” says Thomas, “I thought they’d all be sitting around vegetating.” In four hours he saw the value added chain under the tin roofs. “You see that the people who live here are proud that they have work,” says one of the Claudias. “Dharavi is their home,” remarks Sunil, “and they’re proud of it.” On his shirt is says “I love Dharavi” like on the tourist shirts from New York or London. In Sunil’s case, we are certain he means it.